Snatched From Home: What Would You Do To Save Your Children? (DI Harry Evans Book 1) (30 page)

Evans crept the car along the lane without headlights, using the ruts to guide him. He had an open line to Bhaki, which he put onto speaker, who gave him a full layout of the shed, from the locations of the kids to the exit points. Beside him, Campbell was updating the armed response units and keeping in touch with Chisholm, who was tracing the money as it moved from one account to another. The armed response units would be on-site in less than five minutes. Five minutes could be at least four minutes too late. The dashboard clock stood at midnight. If anything developed in the next few minutes it was up to him, Campbell, Bhaki and a few woodentops to go in and save the kids. That might not be enough bodies to catch everyone and they had no firearms with them.

The BMW grouched along the track, pitching as it found every hole, scraping its underbelly on ridges. Rain battered against the windscreen forcing him to concentrate on not driving into the ditch running alongside the track. A van filled with PCs followed a hundred yards behind him.

‘Anything happening, Amir?’

‘Nothing to report, guv.’

In spite of all that could go wrong, these were the moments Evans lived for as a policeman. The arrests, takedowns and interrogations, gave him a buzz nothing else could replace. Cresting a hill, he could see a dark outline of the farm ahead. Shards of light emanating from a large shed drew him in like a homing signal.

Suddenly Bhaki’s panic stricken voice came through the speaker. ‘Guv. They’ve just lit the blowtorch and it looks like they’re getting ready to use it on the girl. Should I go in and stop them?’

Fuck.

Evans switched on his headlights and stamped his right foot onto the accelerator. ‘I’ll be there in a second. On my signal, follow me in.’

‘What signal, guv?

‘You’ll know.’ He slammed into third gear.

Shadows flitted around the BMW as the following van threw beams of light their way, its driver sensing the sudden urgency. There was no time for finesse. This takedown would have to be done with brute force and the element of surprise used to its maximum capacity.

‘Hold on.’ His warning was unnecessary; Campbell had already braced himself against the violent jolts the car was sustaining from the rough track. Slaloming his way through the gate to the farmyard, Evans executed a controlled slide then pointed the nose of the car at the illuminated shed’s massive wooden doors. As the car raced towards the doors, he gripped the wheel tight, prepared himself for the impact.

The air reverberated with the splintering sound of the twin wooden doors buckling inwards, followed by the tinkling of glass and crunch of metal as the BMW’s speed carried it through the doors and into a cattle wagon with a vicious thump. Evans batted down the airbag, choking on the talcum powder used to prevent it from sticking together. Throwing his shoulder against the car door he fought his way from the wreckage of his beloved car.

‘Police. Everyone down on the ground now.’

Two men ran out from the back of the cattle wagon and made for a side door, where they were met by Bhaki holding a fence post in front of him as if it was a sword. At the far end of the room, the other two had dropped the blowtorch and video camera and were looking for better weapons. Evans sprinted across the floor and threw himself at the nearest one. Rugby tackling the man to the ground, he got on top of him and smashed his fist into the grinning Tony Blair mask that covered his face until he felt the man go limp beneath him.

He looked up to see the remaining man wrestling with Campbell and winning. Campbell took a knee to the groin, which left him rolling on the floor gasping for air. The man scrambled to his feet and, straightening his Elvis mask, made to run to the door. Before the man could escape, Evans grabbed his jacket, spinning the man round to face him.

He was a big bugger, Evans would give him that. But there was no way he would allow the man to escape. Elvis jabbed with his left hand, then sent a right cross at Evans that would have beheaded him if he hadn’t ducked below it. Getting inside the man’s reach, Evans drove lefts and rights into Elvis’s gut. His blows had little effect on the man mountain in front of him so he switched his aim and pummelled Elvis’s kidneys.

Elvis only grunted and wound his arms around Evans, and squeezed the older man in a brutal bear hug.

With both arms trapped, Evans had only his head and feet as a weapon. He hadn’t enough purchase to get a decent kick in, so he arched his back and delivered a crushing headbutt. The vice-like grip loosened. He repeated the blow a second and third time until he could break free. Picking his spot with care he swung a roundhouse that felled the already dazed Elvis.

Evans directed the PCs arriving from the van towards Elvis and Blair as he ran across to free the two children. Noticing the girl’s nakedness for the first time, he removed his jacket and draped it over her to cover her exposed body.

‘It’s OK, lass. You’re safe now.’ Evans ran his eyes over the boy and then looked back at the girl. ‘Have they hurt you?’

‘No. But they were going to cut my foot off with that thing.’ Samantha nodded at the still flaming blowtorch.

Evans pulled a Leatherman multi-tool from his pocket and cut Samantha free before doing the same for Kyle. Campbell groaned as he dragged himself to his feet but Evans had no sympathy for him. ‘Hey, Jock. Call your bloody girlfriend and tell her to bring the parents.’

As Samantha and Kyle hugged each other, sobbing with relief. Evans walked across to the gas bottles and twisted the outlet valves on the bottles to stop the flow of gas.

With the swoosh of the blowtorch silenced, Evans could hear the kidnappers protesting their innocence, accusing them all of police brutality and demanding their lawyers, but none of it mattered to him.

He’d saved the two kids. Job done.

He’d attend the interviews with Lauren later, and spend the next day helping Campbell build the case against the four men, but as far as he was concerned this was his last real act as a policeman.

He expected to be hauled into someone’s office for a bollocking when the full details came out, but he didn’t care. They couldn’t sack him and they daren’t take his pension away after this result.

Turning back to the kids he bent his knees until he was face to face with Kyle. ‘Your Mum and Dad are on their way, lad. They’ve missed you very much and can’t wait to see you again.’

Kyle shrank tighter against his sister, his mouth widening as he started crying again.

Standing up, Evans told Samantha that an ambulance was coming and that they’d have to be checked out by a doctor before they could go home.

‘Don’t worry, though. Your folks’ll be here any second.

Victoria was beside herself. Lauren did her best to offer distraction, but all she wanted was for the girl’s phone to ring and someone to tell her that her babies were safe. They’d been parked beside a street light in the little village of Hesket Newmarket, for what seemed like hours. Although Lauren had told them the police had located their children and were working on a plan to rescue them safely, Victoria couldn’t bring herself to believe it.

The silent phone nestled in a compartment between the seats of the standard issue Astra diesel. Lauren had made sure the phone had a decent charge and was showing four bars’ worth of signal reception. Victoria’s eyes hadn’t left the phone since they’d parked. Nicholas’s head peered between the seats from his position folded into the back of the car. Between Victoria’s fingers was a picture of her children.

A shrill ring startled them all from their individual reveries. Lauren’s hand shot out to grab the phone.

‘Yes?’ She listened for a moment. ‘We’re on our way.’

‘What did they say?’ Victoria searched Lauren’s face in the half-light.

‘They’ve got them. They’ve rescued your children and have arrested the kidnappers. Both Samantha and Kyle are shaken up but largely unhurt.’

‘Thank God. Thank God my babies are OK.’ Victoria’s words gushed out as Lauren started the car.

At the farm, Lauren showed her warrant card to the PC standing guard at the gate. The PC directed her to the shed where the children were waiting. Victoria ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She burst inside and looked around wildly until she saw Samantha wrapped in a blanket with a man’s jacket over her shoulders and Kyle cuddled against her side.

Harry Evans stood beside them in the role of protector.

‘Sam! Kyle!’ Victoria raced across to her children and swept them in her arms. Tears flowed down her face as she let go of the pent up tension she’d contained all week. ‘Are you OK? Did they hurt you?’

Nicholas approached them and joined in with the group hug. Kyle detached himself from his mother and sister to wrap his arms and legs around the father he idolised.

‘We’re fine, Mum.’ Samantha raised her left hand and showed her mother the broken pinkie. ‘Well, a couple of bumps and scrapes but nothing that won’t heal.’

Victoria’s eyes ran over Samantha’s face, taking in the black eye, the cut and swollen lips. ‘Are you sure? Oh, my poor babies.’

‘We’re fine Mum.’ Samantha nodded towards Evans. ‘If it wasn’t for him we wouldn’t be.’

Evans gave a self-conscious shrug. ‘Just doing my job.’

‘You saved my children. Thank you. Thank you so much.’ Victoria strode across and hugged Evans, laughing at his embarrassment when Samantha came to join her.

Victoria watched as Nicholas unwound Kyle and passed him back to her. He reached for Samantha, who pulled her father close, before holding him at arms length and fixing him with a fierce glare.

‘It’s your fault we were kidnapped, isn’t it?’

Unable to answer, Nicholas just nodded.

‘Bastard.’ Samantha drove her knee deep into her father’s crotch.

Victoria left her husband lying in the filth and held her children. Samantha apologised for hitting her father, but Victoria waved it away. A knee in the bollocks from his daughter was the least he deserved.

Victoria felt the heat of Samantha’s breath at her ear. ‘Kyle’s loose tooth fell out. I didn’t have any money on me so I told him the Tooth Fairy would have put it under his pillow at home.’

The whispered words threatened to melt Victoria’s heart. Despite everything they’d been through, Samantha had done everything possible to protect her brother and to avoid shattering childhood illusions. When Samantha told her just how close she’d been to facing the blowtorch, Victoria’s lips went thin.

Ushering her children towards the arriving paramedics she returned to where Nicholas lay by the gas bottles. Picking up the blowtorch she walked towards her prone husband. Hoisting the lance over her shoulder like a baseball bat, Victoria tensed her muscles, ready to swing, but the sight of Nicholas cowering at her feet brought her to her senses. Her children were safe. They were alive and intact. Punishing Nicholas didn’t matter any more. Samantha’s knee had done far more damage than she ever could. The pain of the contact would heal in a few short minutes. The disgust that had fuelled her action would prey upon his mind for years. It would eat into the depths of his psyche.

Victoria threw the lance down, feeling nothing but contempt for the man she’d once loved.

‘Get up, you worthless piece of shit. They’ve suffered enough because of you. The least you can do is stand up and face them.’

Evans uncrossed his feet and took a sip of the fifteen year-old Balvenie he kept in his drawer for celebrating results. The whole team were gathered around him and each had a glass of the delicate Speyside malt.

Standing up, he raised his glass high. ‘Lady and gentlemen. I’d like you to join me in raising a toast to Samantha Foulkes, one of the gutsiest young women I’ve ever met. You’ve all heard her story and I have to say her bravery astounds me.’ He raised his glass above his head. ‘Samantha Foulkes.’

Every member of the team joined in with the toast and echoed Evans’s sentiments with toasts of their own.

The family liaison officer had called from the hospital to say that Samantha and Kyle had undergone a full examination. Apart from Samantha’s broken finger and a few minor scrapes and bruises, they were nothing more than a little undernourished. Kyle would see a child psychologist for a few months, but the report indicated he was coping remarkably well.

Evans, for once, felt satisfied. Lauren had made short work of extracting a full confession from the lecherous fool who’d been wearing the Tony Blair mask. The other three had refused to speak without a lawyer, but the evidence they had against them would ensure none of them would escape a lengthy jail sentence.

Chisholm had documented proof the money had ended up in the account of a Stephen Harper from Lancaster. The Home Office Large Major Enquiry System had identified Harper as a dubious businessman. The accompanying surveillance pictures of Harper matched those of the man calling himself Keith Morgan. After talking over some options with Chisholm, Evans decided to leave the money in Harper’s account. To remove it would weaken the case against him. Armed with a name and address, Chisholm had run some traces on Harper, and found another bank account in his name. He used this account as the source for the £95,000 that would be returned to all the contributing bank accounts. Learning from his earlier mistake, he set the programme in motion and once the money was taken from Harper’s second account reduced the usage figures so that there would be no red flags raised at the server farms.

Tempted as he was to go down to Lancaster and arrest Harper himself, Evans knew doing so would cause friction with Lancashire police. Instead he’d agreed with Campbell and had asked the Lancashire CID to make the arrest. They had been delighted to have the opportunity.

‘Right then. You buggers listening?’ Evans stood and four sets of baggy eyes looked his way.

‘I’m gonna call in the brass and lay the whole thing out to them. As far as the money’s concerned I’ll tell them it’s from an anonymous benefactor. All you need to say if you’re asked is that
I
arranged it. I’ll deal with any questions after that. Understood?’ There was a murmur of acknowledgements. ‘And thanks for trusting me with your careers. It wasn’t an easy decision for any of you, but it paid off.’

Evans knew he wouldn’t be popular for calling Greg Hadley at three in the morning, but still he picked up the phone.

A sleep filled voice answered him. ‘Hadley. Who is it?’

‘Greg, it’s He-Man. You’re never gonna believe what I’ve got to tell you.’